The French Revolution
by hedgehogkween
Summary: Kinda... exactly what the title says. The pairing in this might be Fruk.


French Revolution

Francis glanced out the window at the burning city below. The seemingly endless mobs of his own people seemed to get ever closer, and ever angrier. He was scratching out a note for Pierre to send to someone nearby, wherever and whoever his friends were. He rolled the note up and shakily tied it to the bird's foot, sending him out the window as a bullet, no doubt aimed for his head, whizzed by. He quickly ran back inside, crashing into his writing desk.

"M-mon Dieu…" he muttered, pulling himself back up. He'd thrown some of his clothes into a bag before he'd started writing the note, rushing out of the room and hoping not to run into the villagers who'd been attacking them. He knew that none of them knew it, but killing him would be worse than killing the king. They'd always been raised to be ignorant workers of the king, at least until now. How could anyone expect them to know? He shook his head, climbing onto his misty-gray spotted horse and sending them off as quickly as possible. He could _feel_ the people dying inside of him, the buildings burning around him, the anger, confusion, chaos… that was really the only word for it, chaos. He gave a small cry and fell onto the horse, wrapping an arm around her neck.

"ne me laissez pas mourir avant que ce soit sur…" he whispered, falling unconscious among the dark strands of hair of the horse's mane.

XxXxXxX

Antonio laughed a little to himself, pouring one of the brothers in front of him another glass of whatever they were drinking, not that it mattered anymore. Most of the group- himself, the Italys, Gilbert, Arthur, and Roderich- had gone drinking to celebrate someone's birthday. He wasn't drinking anything himself, being the one who was supposed to take them all home. Not that he wanted to get drunk off his ass anyway.

"I only wish Francis could've made it here." He sighed, glancing at Arthur. Arthur had drank less than anyone but had the hardest time holding his liquor, making him the current stupidest person at the table.

"Fuck, what do I care? 's probably just out, doin' somethin' or somethin'…" he muttered, hiccupping every few syllables. Antonio was about to tell him how stupid he looked when there was a loud _THUD_ against the window. He looked up, frowning a little.

"The heck?" he mumbled, going to the door to see what it was. He kneeled down and dug through a bush for a moment before finding a small dove with a piece of paper tied to its foot. He raised an eyebrow, picking up the poor creature and bringing it inside.

"I think he sent us a message or something…" he held he bird up a little. "I'm going to get him something to eat, like, bread or something."

"What's the message say?" asked one of the Italy brothers, looking up for a moment. Antonio untied the slip of paper from the bird's foot and skimmed through it, a little surprised at how messy it was.

"I think he's coming to visit." He said finally, smiling a little. Arthur peeled his face off the table and grabbed the note from him, tried to read it, failed horribly, and handed it to Roderich.

"A little strange for him to tell us on such short notice, isn't it?" he asked. "It says he'll be here as soon as possible, but he didn't give a date or time."

"Maybe he's in a hurry?" Antonio offered, shrugging.

"The bird must've been flying for at least a few hours to reach us, even if he left after the bird he should've been here by now."

"Alright, well… when do you think he'll be here?"

"In about 30 seconds maybe?" Roderich gestured out the window again. The shadow of a familiar misty-gray spotted horse outside with its rider heaped over it lazily, as if he'd fallen asleep on the ride. Antonio chuckled, getting up to let him in.

"Only person I know who could fall asleep on the back of a moving horse." He joked, running to the side of his horse to help him down. "Good to see that you made it after all Francia." He grinned brightly, hesitating when he saw something sticking out of his back. He stopped, taking a closer look at him. The thing that was sticking out of his back was an arrow, granted it wasn't enough to kill them but it still would've made riding a horse somewhat painful. He seemed to be breathing more heavily that was normal, and there was a small trickle of blood trailing from his neck, down his arm, and dripping off his hand. "Francis?" he repeated, running forward. "Are you okay? Say something."

He shook his head a little, almost falling off the horse before Antonio helped him back up. He gave a small gasp, notice a fine line of red around his neck. He lifted the other over his shoulder and rushed inside.

"I don't think he came for the party guys." He shouted shakily. Everyone looked up and stared at him, Romano covering his brother's eyes for fear that it would give him nightmares for the rest of forever. Arthur seemed to get up first and pick up his hands, shaking them and mumbling, "Francis, wakey-wakey, wake up." And things like that.

"He's not going to wake up idiota, I think he's dying." He sighed. Venenziano pulled his brother's hand away so that he could see, jumping up and pushing Arthur out of the way to see Francis. Antonio frowned, laying him down.

"I'm going to go get bandages…" _"And maybe a sewing kit or something."_ Antonio called, not daring to say the last part. It was obvious that he needed stitches in his neck if not somewhere else. With the amount of blood he'd seen there was no way that he hadn't gotten some kind of bullet wound or something. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why? And from whom? He came back a moment later and found everyone crowded around him. Gilbert looked particularly upset and both of the Italys were sobbing loudly, although Romano was trying to hide it. He pushed them aside and pulled away Francis's shirt, revealing two bullet wounds as he'd expected.

"Dios mio, what on earth happened to you Francis?" he asked. Roderich was leading the two Italys away from the couch to sit with Arthur, who apparently hadn't cared to come see him up close again. Francis shook his head again, pointing to his chest.

"You… did it to yourself?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"N-non…" he coughed, sitting up a little only to be pushed back down by Antonio. "Th-the people… they're so angry, I d-don't know what h-happened." Antonio frowned and poured a little alcohol on a cloth, dabbing the wounds with it.

"It's alright Francis, nobody expects you to know right now." He mumbled. "We'll patch you up a bit and keep you with us for a while, and then everything will be-"

"Everything will be the same unless we stop them." He interrupted. "They've killed the king, and… I think they're having a revolution." He whispered the last part to keep Arthur from hearing, which of course didn't work.

"They _WHAT?!_" he screamed, pulling himself up. "Y' can't let them do that, it'll tear you apart!" Antonio held Arthur back.

"Arthur stop, you're making it worse!" he pushed him into the table. "He shouldn't be talking about it anyway, not until we can get him fixed up a little…" he was tempted to ask him more questions, but knew that he really was in too bad of a condition to do anything. He hesitantly poked a needle through his stomach, earning a cry and a small jump.

"St-stop…" he sobbed.

"I can't stop until I finish sewing them up… don't cry, please don't cry, if you start crying I'll start crying, and then it'll just be a big mess." He mumbled shakily. He put another hand on his chest to keep him from moving. "Can't we get him some kind of painkiller? Arthur, go ask Roderich to find some."

"Why can't I do it?"

"Because you're drunk off your ass and I said so." Arthur frowned, but did as he was told. Antonio finished stitching up the first bullet hole and was about to start the second one when they finally came back. "Took you long enough."

"They were hiding." Arthur muttered. "At least we found 'em…"

"_I_ found them." Roderich corrected. "And they weren't hiding, they were in their normal spot. You just didn't trust me to take him these because you said that poppy seeds are-"

"Just give me the poppy seeds!" he shouted. They were quickly poured into his hand, and just as quickly into Francis's mouth. He crunched them slowly and when he'd finally finished them Arthur had fallen asleep at his feet (granted he fell asleep fairly quickly). Antonio sighed and continued to stitch up the second hole, thankful that this time he had Roderich to calm Francis down this time.

"There, now to bandage up your neck…"

"Already taken care of." Roderich lightly patted the bandages he'd put on the neck wound. "I did it while you were focused on the stitches. It was making a mess…"

"Gracias." He chuckled. "We'll leave you to rest… you want a blanket or something?"

Francis nodded, and Antonio left to dig through the cabinet. He came back with two large, fluffy towels. One of which he laid over Francis, and the other he draped over Arthur's shoulders.

"Sleep well, okay?" he whispered. Francis gave him a small smile and closed his eyes.

"Shouldn't we wait here and watch him for a while too?" Roderich asked, glancing at him.

"He should be okay… if he gets up it'll wake up Arthur… probably." He chuckled and blew out the light, leading Roderich out of the room and upstairs.


End file.
